


monster, how should i feel

by ssuppositiouss



Category: The Dragon Prince (Cartoon)
Genre: Dreams and Nightmares, F/M, Gen, Mutual Pining, minor depictions of blood, minor mentions of callum/claudia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-18
Updated: 2019-12-18
Packaged: 2021-02-25 04:48:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,205
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21830233
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ssuppositiouss/pseuds/ssuppositiouss
Summary: A look at what Callum’s nightmares could have been, after using dark magic.
Relationships: Callum/Rayla (The Dragon Prince)
Comments: 12
Kudos: 87





	monster, how should i feel

It all stemmed from trying to save her. No, it was more selfish than that. He wanted to help, needed to prove himself. Maybe it was because of that initial selfish thought—I’ve never been good at anything, but I can do magic, and this, _this_ is magic, this is _human_ magic—that the nightmares started to happen. When he closes his eyes, he sees the Callum that he could have become, strong and powerful and horrible.

In this dream, his pupils and sclera entirely black, a proud smile gracing his features, a confidence he still has not achieved outside the confines of his imagination.

It had nothing to do with her, and everything to do with magic. Something uncertain still lingers. He thinks of what he knows.

Dark magic was the most useful he’d ever been. It’s enough of a conflict he’s still thinking about it, still wondering.

Even connected with the Sky Arcanum, the thought that there’s a limitless power waiting for him to release it, to use it, to become. . . He could do, he could _be_ , so much more.

(after a lifetime of failure, why not do what he needs to do to be his at his fullest potential)

“Why give this up?” Dream Callum holds the key of Aaravos in his hands, but the runes are wrong, dark magic on every face. Even his voice is wrong, a faint echo of enchantment, a melodious darkness (temptation) behind every word. “Why can’t you have this gift, when you’ve done nothing wrong?”

These nightmares have been taunting him.

A foggy mist, a cold breeze, and then the scene changes.

He’s dragged to another empty void, just him and the dream Callum, staring at each other. And then Claudia is there, as pretty and as cheerful as ever. Her smile is bright when she sees Callum, and she tucks a stray hair behind her ear delicately. Callum traces the movement with his eyes, choosing that moment to choke on air before launching into a coughing fit.

“Callum!”

Despite being there, Callum feels separate. He is an invisible witness, watching as dream Callum talks to his crush, with the same poise and dignity as he would outside of a dream—that is to say, with none at all.

But he also is the dream Callum, and he can see all of Claudia’s expressions. He can see that Claudia is pleased with him, proud of him. She’s also worried he’s choking on nothing, but that’s not the concern.

He isn’t just a step-prince, bumbling around, failing people, failing at everything, failing everyone. He’s more than that, in this moment. He’s a mage, equal to _Claudia_.

“Are you okay?”

He struggles to get a breath, then smiles at her. A moment passes, and then another. His cheeks warm. She makes a goofy face at him, and he relaxes, laughs genuinely. Dream or not, Claudia can always make him smile.

“Well, you did it! How do you feel?” She looks so eager, and he can’t tell her that the dark magic made him so sick he’d startled Rayla into thinking he would die. He can’t tell her he’s connected with the Sky Arcanum. He can’t tell her the thought of using dark magic again makes him feel like death is crawling through his veins.

He can’t tell her anything.

She hugs him close, and he can feel the warmth of her touch, every curve of her body as they simply hold each other.

It’s. . . nice. Safe. She reminds him of Katolis, before this all happened.

(but then, he wouldn’t know magic and he wouldn’t know Rayla, and he wouldn’t be close to bringing peace—but the king is dead in exchange, and now Callum’s used dark magic, and there’s no turning back)

She smells sweet, like her hot brown morning potion. He could hug her for an eternity.

“Didn’t it feel amazing? Dark magic just feels _right_ , like an extension of yourself had been missing. And then it’s back!” She pulls away from their hug to beam at him.

“Claudia, I. . .” His heart thumps in his chest, hard enough that the rest of him trembles. He doesn’t know what he wants to say.

She caresses his cheek. “Guess you’re both the prince and a mage now, huh?”

“Y-yeah. . .”

 _A dark mage_. “This is amazing!”

His eyelids flutter, and he leans toward her, feels the heat of her hands as they slide down his waist—

“Callum!” His eyes shoot open. Rayla’s face is uncomfortably close, bright eyes searching him for something. The moon illuminates her hair, and some loose strands tickle his cheek. “What’re you dreaming about?”

His mind flashes back to Claudia, her lips so close to his, her hands on him, her body pressed—“Sandwiches!” Callum screeches, scrambling upward and smacking his head on Rayla’s face.

Rayla rubs her nose, giving him a flat, disbelieving look. “Some intense sandwiches, then.”

“Very,” he agrees, pulling up his scarf to cover his reddening cheeks.

Dream Claudia had been about to kiss him. He almost kissed her.

It almost makes him forget what the dream was meant to do.

“Your turn on watch.” Rayla looks at him knowingly, a glint in her eyes.

(she’s so pretty)

* * *

Though the simple solution to keeping nightmares at bay is not to sleep, Rayla always takes first watch and always leaves him longer hours of rest than she takes for herself. She seems to be able to tell when he hasn’t slept, too, and just lying there stewing in his own thoughts eventually takes him back to the void.

So he lets himself drift to that darkness, lets his conflicts eat at him as they traverse Xadia.

Dark Callum always greets him, soon followed by Claudia, and the nightmares shift to pleasant dreams that shield his uncertainties.

Use the dark magic, use the dark magic.

Maybe it’s a type of conditioning, that he’s associating dark magic with her, and he associates her with desire. But nothing Claudia does can erase the feeling of someone’s demise as he steals their essence to create something for himself.

It’s why his subconscious is having difficulties.

(if it makes him feel useful and horrible, what is it really)

The deeper they are in Xadia, the more out of place Callum feels. Rayla was an expert on the human side of the continent, but she’s literally one with Xadia. Callum once again stumbles to follow, barely keeping up when she walks, let alone when she climbs trees.

Though there’s a comfort when he holds her and when she guides him, and he knows she likes being with him, doesn’t see him as a burden, he feels inadequate.

He’s contributed nothing to their journey since entering Xadia.

He hasn’t used dark magic in his dreams, yet, but his subconscious sure knows how to toy with him, how to play the cards in a way that maybe, one day, he might question himself.

As he struggles to sleep another night, Rayla and Zym are none the wiser.

He thinks, though, that Zym has taken to cuddling with him and Rayla may be stroking his hair because they know.

* * *

(they’ve talked to each other about so much, he knows he can talk to her about this—but he can’t, he won’t, he won’t drag anyone else into his mistakes)

(she gives him looks, sometimes, like she wants to say something, but she doesn’t, because he hasn’t taught her how to start these conversations)

Dream Claudia asks him if he would do dark magic to save his family.

“What about Ez?” she demands, and she sounds so heartbroken he can’t focus on her.

(he thinks, maybe he would)

* * *

(breathe, Callum, breathe)

(in and out, in and out, just _breathe_ )

* * *

When he blinks, he sees himself, bright purple magic at his fingertips. More and more, when he tries to sleep he’s back in the void, flinging Sky Arcanum spells—the two that he knows, anyway—at himself, to no avail.

Dream Claudia appears more and more frequently, prettier than ever, but the temptation of her and her magic is lost on him.

He wakes himself up before she can kiss him, this time.

“Another sandwich dream?” Rayla jokes, glancing at him from the tree branch where she’s perched.

Callum’s cheeks flare as she makes her way down toward him, and maybe it’s because he just dreamt of Claudia, but he notices the softness of _Rayla_ right as she’s plopping beside him. She sits so close to him, the warmth of her touch makes him shiver. “No!”

“Relax, silly prince.” Her expression is fond, and then she looks away, nervous. Callum finds himself staring at her longer, as her eyes glance everywhere but at him. “Everyone has dreams about sandwiches sometimes.”

* * *

Eidetic memory makes it easy to draw the runes he needs. The only issue is that he needs to see the rune first.

His spell arsenal is pathetically limited since Claudia’s spellwork veers toward the dark magic side of things. Rayla’s knowledge of ancient Draconic is less helpful than Claudia’s book, somehow, but she makes up for it with jokes about what the spells _could_ be, even though there are no corresponding runes.

With no other options, he practices firing spells as quickly as he can, and Rayla dodges with unsurprising ease, sweeping her leg and knocking him down within seconds. “You’ve got to keep your guard up. Fix your stance.”

Callum pouts, taking the hand she offers him and letting her pull him up.

(but what else is new)

Her hands are so small compared to his, palms rough from handling her swords. Her touch is warm, and he can feel the magic coursing through her, binding them at her fingertips.

Their hands remain connected for a moment, then a moment too long, and Callum snatches his hand away. Rayla’s frown disappears so quickly Callum isn’t sure he saw it.

_You could use the elf’s energy for dark magic. She has so much of it, she’s literally made of the Moon Arcanum and she wastes what she has._

Callum sighs, shakes his head, forces the unwanted thoughts to the back of his mind.

But if Ez was in danger, would he do that? Would he react without thinking, do what he thought needed to be done?

For Ez?

For Rayla?

* * *

“I have these dreams,” he whispers. Zym is curled at their feet, and Rayla’s head has lolled onto his shoulder. Her left horn is about an inch from poking him, but so far they’ve managed to avoid injury. She’s deep in sleep, exhausted from missing her break from the night before, and Callum tries not to move too much so she can rest.

“I know I should talk about it with you, but I also know you’ll blame yourself.” His hand is by her hip, and he moves his thumb in gentle circles, hoping it’s soothing.

It helps him stay calm, oddly enough.

“I guess your feelings about dark magic rubbed off on me.”

She would never talk to him again, if she saw him use dark magic. But would he resent her, if he couldn’t protect the people he loved when he could have done something?

There isn’t much he can do, with his two spells.

“But. . .”

_I’ll tell you soon, though._

* * *

There’s a day that the nightmare shifts, and instead of the key of Aaravos, instead of Claudia, dream Callum brings something else. Someone else.

“Rayla!” Callum calls, running over.

“You’ve got some weird dreams, don’t you, Callum?” Rayla laughs, but she’s focused on the Callum that has his arm around her, the Callum that is pulling her closer to him. She doesn’t seem to see the real Callum.

“Hey! My dreams are fine!” He remembers that he’s supposed to have a talk about sandwiches with Ezran, that Rayla’s been knowingly poking fun at his Claudia-sandwich dreams. He feels his face flush. This isn’t one of those dreams. This is _Rayla_.

Callum steps forward slowly. It’s like there’s an invisible barrier holding him back, forcing him to stay a certain distance away. Watching.

Dream Callum warps these nightmares for a reason.

Rayla is just a bit taller than him, but her features are slighter, more delicate. Her hands are so much smaller than his, and when dream Callum holds her by the waist, he sees how lithe she is compared to him. It’s more noticeable how easily she can break.

(he wouldn’t let that happen, he isn’t useless anymore, he won’t be useless again)

Though he doesn’t trust dream Callum, the nightmare never veers into that territory. It stays soft. Innocent.

Dream Callum must feel he’s exhausted his attempts at using his crush on Claudia and is trying to test his friendship with Rayla, recreating a past memory, forging a new conversation.

Callum watches, on edge, as the conversations stay away from dark magic entirely. Their conversations are as they usually are, joking, fun, deep when they need to be.

And then the scene shifts.

For a moment, Callum thinks Claudia will be back, but it’s still Rayla. Rayla is taking the dream Callum by the hand toward a familiar tree, tugging him along with the same excitement she’d had initially.

He watches them dance. Rayla moves gracefully, on tiptoe, poised as she pirouettes and moves to a silent rhythm. In contrast, seeing the dream Callum fumble around with awkward steps gives him secondhand embarrassment.

He’s about to bury his face in his scarf to avoid watching further, but then he sees the look on Rayla’s face.

It’s the same expression she’d given him when they’d danced the first time, features softened, the gentlest smile on her lips. He’d committed her face to memory easily, rushed to sketch it as soon as he’d gotten the chance. It’s different, seeing Rayla look at someone else that way, even if it is another version of himself.

She looks so happy to be with him. So. . . fond.

 _You know why_ , dream Callum seems to say. Callum frowns as he watches his dream self and the dream Rayla settle in a fake Silvergrove, start talking instead of interacting with the other elves.

It’s different from the conversations with Claudia, somehow just as easy as their conversations outside of his recurring nightmares.

Just as Callum’s shoulders relax, as the edge fades just slightly, the dream Callum seems to smirk at him, to drag the dream back to what it’s been the past nights.

“Rayla, what if I use dark magic again?” Dream Callum sounds so worried, sounds just like Callum would, if he were to ever have this conversation with her.

(he will, soon; she’s been open with him about so much more, lately)

“You won’t.” She’s so confident. “I’ll never let you in a situation where you think you’d need to—”

“I wanted to _save_ you!” Callum is the dream Callum again, sees the pain in Rayla’s expression as he grabs her hands.

“I’m not worth that!”

It twists Callum’s heart to hear her say these things, knowing she would say them outside of his dreams. _You are! You are worth it! You’re Rayla!_

Rayla shifts their hands so she’s holding both of his hands in between hers. “I’d bind myself to keeping you away from dark magic, Callum. You-you’re so _good_ , you don’t need anyone else’s magic. The Sky Arcanum _chose_ you for a _reason_.”

She has more to say, he can tell, but she cuts herself off to blush. Something about her expression makes him smile awkwardly, makes his face heat as well. This. . .

“What if. . .” Dream Callum is sneering now, darkness twisting the warmth Callum was just feeling. “What if Ezran needed to be saved?”

His mind flashes back to when Claudia suggested he use dark magic for this reason.

She doesn’t even hesitate. “I would give my life to protect Ez.”

“Zym?”

“I’d handle it.”

Callum knows what the dream is going to do before the words echo in his own voice: “What about me?”

Rayla pauses. “What?”

“What if I needed dark magic to stay alive?”

Rayla looks a mix of horrified and confused, torn. “I’d never let that happen.”

There’s enough hesitation that dream Callum picks at it, plants the seed in Callum’s mind. He would never use dark magic for himself, he thinks, but what if he had to protect Ez and Zym? What if Rayla was in danger again? He only knows _two_ Sky Arcanum spells. What if. . .

What if Rayla supported him using dark magic?

“You’d let me use _you_.” The dream Callum smiles, wide and bright and happy. Even Rayla would want him to use dark magic. “I could use _you_ for dark magic.”

His emphasis on Rayla isn’t lost.

Callum feels sick.

“I. . .” There’s enough bright purple energy emitting from their touching hands that Callum knows the answer.

(it’s all theoretical, a hypothesis that his nightmare conjured to keep him unsure—but Callum knows Rayla enough to know when she’d hesitate, and _this_ isn’t quite hesitation. . .)

Maybe she wouldn’t hate him if he used dark magic?

(or is it because the sacrifice is _her_ )

* * *

“Sandwiches again?” Rayla asks, when he startles himself out of slumber.

Callum stares at her, wide-eyed, looking up at her face then at her hands, then back up at her eyes again. “Definitely not!” She must hear something in his voice this time because she immediately shifts to concern.

“Are you. . . okay?” She leans toward him. He leans toward her touch unconsciously, before realizing what he’s doing.

“Yes, yes, great!” He sits up, pulls away. “Fine as ever!”

“Callum. . .”

“My turn on watch!”

* * *

In this dream, Rayla entrusts Callum with one of her blades.

Dream Callum doesn’t fumble with it the way Callum knows he would if Rayla ever let him near her weapons. He seems to have a plan.

So quickly Rayla doesn’t stop him, Dream Callum turns the blade to his own hand, digging it into his own palm.

“Callum!”

“Do me a favor, Rayla?” The dream Callum takes her hand in his, one night, and Callum sees the way Rayla’s face just softens when she looks at him. He sees that expression every day, thinks he can’t be doing much better when he looks at her, but it just makes his heart soar seeing and feeling how much she cares for him.

(there’s also an ache, from knowing and not reacting)

Dream Callum smiles, and there’s something sinister in it. His thoughts become Callum’s, and it feels like he’s the one there, holding Rayla. It would be so easy to crush the delicate bones of her small wrists, use the magic in them to conjure a spell. So easy to take some of the Arcanum she was blessed to have, that he has to force.

These aren’t his thoughts.

But they are, they have been, he must have thought of them at one point, for them to be coming up now. . .

Callum isn’t the one hurting her, but he may as well be. He sees the way Rayla’s expression changes to a grimace, and before she can completely pull her hand away, dream Callum—or is it just Callum now, since he’s the one holding her—uses her blade to cut into her palm.

The sound of her blood splattering on the floor—and he somehow hears it over her pained cry—and Callum almost turns away if not for the bright purple glow signifying dark magic. How deep had he cut? Why was this necessary?

Rayla cradles her hand to her chest, eyebrows furrowed. “What did you—”

“Moonshadow elves have so much primal magic in them.” Rayla glances from the dream Callum around the vast empty space, but she can’t see anyone else. She’s visibly confused. “She won’t refuse, because she loves you.”

Callum swallows. They haven’t. . . They haven’t talked about it yet.

He heard it in her voice when she woke him from his first dark magic nightmare, and he hears it time and time again now that he knows what he’s listening for. When she looks at him and she thinks he isn’t paying attention, she seems so free, so happy. He doesn’t know what to do with that.

He's been pushing these thoughts away for a while, trying to sort his own feelings. That this dream Callum is bringing them up now, in this way. . . “Rayla—”

Dream Callum reaches toward Rayla again, and though Rayla seems unsure, she lets him caress her cheek, leans into his touch. Her ears flatten at his touch, her cheeks tinting a light pink.

The dark magic inside him releases, and he lets it wrap around her, touch her hand, touch his hand, _dnem eht kaerb, laeh eht raet_.

Rayla wouldn’t react like this. She wouldn’t just stand there and let him hurt her, hurt _himself_. She hates dark magic, what it does to others, what it does to him.

Dream Rayla said she would bind herself to keep him from using dark magic, and he’s sure she would. He’s confident she wants him to never use it again.

But then, why does this part of the dream ring true?

(maybe she wouldn’t, unless it were to help him. . . and if he needs to help her, or help Ez. . .)

* * *

(breathe, Callum, breathe)

(in and out, in and out, just _breathe_ )

* * *

“Something bothering you?” She’s smiling softly, so unaware of the darkness plaguing his mind. “Sandwiches again?”

The dark magic has tormented him since he’d played with it, since his body felt the power he _could_ have. He just wants the nightmares to stop.

He pulls away, gently so he doesn’t hurt her. It feels cold without her. “Not sandwiches.” He can’t. Not with Rayla. “Arcanum stuff.”

“Of course!” Rayla jokes, voice going deeper as she playfully mocks him. “How could I, a single elf, know _anything_ about Arcana?”

Callum rolls his eyes. He could never hurt her.

(he will never hurt her)

* * *

His nightmares no longer feature Claudia in a starring role.

Neither does his sketchbook.

* * *

Dream Callum presses his lips on hers, and she melts into his touch, whimpering as he presses harder against her.

Callum melts into the kiss as well, warmth wrapping itself around him, and he wants to just stay in this moment with her.

This dream Rayla doesn’t quite know what she’s doing, as one hand initially tangles in his hair, then rests on his shoulder, while her other hand plays with his scarf. It’s endearing. Their height difference isn’t so much that their lips can’t slot together perfectly.

Imagine. . .

And then Callum opens his eyes, sees the wisps of purple magic. Slowly and surely, dream Callum is pulling on Rayla’s Moon Arcanum, drawing on her magical energy and taking it for himself, for _dark magic_.

Callum clenches his hands into fists, pulls away.

She looks exhausted, breathing heavily. He feels empowered, closer than ever to the Moon Arcanum. It’s wrong, it’s so wrong, but the heat and power coursing through his veins remind him why people choose this path.

“Dark magic, Callum?” Rayla demands, a little breathless.

It’s so _stupid_ , dark magic doesn’t work this way, it doesn’t work without sacrifice, it—

_“Why give this up?” Dream Callum holds the key of Aaravos in his hands, but the runes are wrong, dark magic on every face. Even his voice is wrong, a faint echo of enchantment, a melodious darkness (temptation) behind every word. “Why can’t you have this gift, when you’ve done nothing wrong?”_

_These nightmares have been taunting him._

A foggy mist, a cold breeze, and then the scene changes.

He has one of Rayla’s swords in his hands.

There’s blood, on his hands, on the sword, on _her_.

Rayla would never let him do this, Callum tells himself, repeats on a mantra. Rayla is stronger than this, she’d have fought him off long before. She would never let him use dark magic. He can’t ever use dark magic. He can be stronger than this.

“Rayla, I—”

He vomits.

* * *

(breathe, Callum, breathe)

(in and out, in and out, just _breathe_ )

* * *

It isn’t in a dream when he realizes.

She’s glaring at a river, making threats loud enough that Callum has to choke on his laughter, and Callum thinks, _I would do anything for her_.

He doesn’t know what _anything_ could be, doesn’t know if he could be proud of what he would do, if she would want him to do these things. But he also knows she would do anything for him.

(but dark magic?)

Thoughts and uncertainties linger—how much can he really do, with his arsenal of two spells, his lack of teachers, his ineptitude with a sword and physical anything—and those will always be there. He’s never going to protect as well as Rayla, but he has his own way of doing things.

He doesn’t know what he’d do if a situation arose.

(the temptation of dark magic remains)

“Rayla?”

She stops her ranting to stare at him, frowning at his serious tone.

“Can I talk to you about something?”

Her expression softens, as it always does. He knows he can't be doing much better. “Always, sandwich prince.”

"I hate you."

They both smile.

* * *

(the nightmares continue)

**Author's Note:**

> my first foray into tdp;; i love these two so much, and i love angst, so naturally this was the first fic to pop into my head
> 
> (yes i'm aware dreams don't work this way but i'm using artistic liberty because there was just one scene in this fic i really wanted to write and the rest had to be tacked on so no one would judge lol)
> 
> i hope to write more and contribute more to the fandom--and i read fanfics every night so i hope you all will write as well!
> 
> thank you for reading this little piece!!


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